Satish Verma

Gold Star - 42,389 Points (5-6-1935)

Roots - Poem by Satish Verma

It was a beautiful day
after the storm.
Fever was rising in branches.
Severed moons on road
started listening to explosive-laden

I went for the jugular.
Why poisoned goats were set free
for the cougars?
Existence was a positive sum,
not the square root of negative numbers.
One poppy head went for the primary.

A hybrid of reality and dreams
I was trying to find my ancestral home
in the epics of wars.
When a day ends, I open the fires
for the night. Time has come
to become blind.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, April 11, 2010

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